Coffee Talk
by BlindDestiny
Summary: Ratio gets more than he bargained for while interrogating Birthday over something that should've been insignificant. BirthRate Drabble(ish)


**Coffee Talk**

"So, you turned her down?" Ratio asks with faked nonchalance. He doesn't even take his eyes off of the tablet in his hands, despite the fact that he's been sitting on his home screen for ten minutes.

Birthday ignores how obvious he is, though. "Yep." He answers, lounging in his chair at their usual table in Café Nowhere. The place is almost deserted.

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"Huh?" Birthday blinks, and peers at Ratio from beneath his sunglasses.

But Ratio refuses to look up from his tablet. "You chased her for weeks, and now that she's presented herself to you—no, she's _returning feelings_ that she believes are there—you reject her?"

Birthday's mouth falls open. He watches Ratio clumsily grab for his cup of coffee—since he's so absorbed in whatever is on his tablet to pay attention to his hands. Birthday scrambles about his thoughts. "It… just didn't sit well with me, is all." The Café is suddenly very quiet. He can hear Nice yawning across the room.

"What?" The word bursts from Ratio's lips like he had a bad taste in his mouth.

"I decided that she wasn't my type." More quiet. Birthday suddenly hated the _tink-tink-tink_ of Hajime's spoon on her plate and the gentle flapping of Murasaki reading the newspaper.

Ratio only laughs through his nose. "And after all this time I thought your type was anything with two X-chromosomes and a pulse."

"Mm, coma chicks are still on the menu, then," he smirks.

"Birthday, please."

"Why do you care so much, anyway?" he groans. It is true that Ratio has a personal interest in his life, but he's never been this… strange about it before. It was different somehow.

"I'm just baffled, that's all." Ratio mutters. "I claim to know you rather well, but I just can't wrap my head around this. What were you thinking?"

Birthday puts a hand behind his head and a sheepish grin upon his face. "Nothing at all?"

Ratio sighs. "You make a big show out of impressing women and then refuse the results. I can't understand it. Is it your health?"

That gets him to lean forward in his chair. "No! Nothing like that. Come on."

"Then why?"

There's a split second of silence, and then Birthday hugs his arms and raises his voice. "So forceful, Ratiocchi~"

Ratio takes it in stride. He also chooses to ignore the inquisitive glances the Hamatora Duo are suddenly giving him. "It's just a simple question."

"Oh, you didn't deny it." He's smirking again.

"Birthday—"

He cuts him off with a sigh. "It was… what should I say… There was no spark, yeah?"

The ensuing silence is stifling, but Ratio finally brings his attention up from his tablet. He stares blankly at Birthday for the longest time before: "That's a really bad pun. Even for you."

"Ow, that hurts."

"Really." Ratio pushes.

Birthday's expression becomes a little more serious. "The connection wasn't there. Like I said, I decided that her type wasn't what I wanted chasing _me_."

Ratio pauses. "That phrasing is strange. So, what you're saying is, once you got what you wanted, you didn't want it anymore?"

"Well… sure. Let's go with that." Birthday shrugs.

"Like hell I'll accept that answer!" Ratio suddenly booms, slamming his fist down onto the table and making Birthday jump. His empty coffee cup rattles on its saucer. Murasaki and Nice are giving him concerned and sidelong glances, respectively. He takes a breath to calm himself. "You're suddenly being picky? That doesn't make sense. You should be lucky that a girl even responded to your advances for once."

"No, really, Ratio. That one stung a bit."

"I just think it's a mistake, is all." He huffs, settling back into his chair. The embarrassment from his outburst is beginning to show on his face.

"Well, too bad." Birthday shrugs a single shoulder. His voice gains a bit of an edge. "I've already decided. I can't be with her."

Ratio throws his head back, as if the ceiling held the answers to his grand question. "But _why_? You still haven't given a discernable answer!"

Birthday grinds his teeth as his frustration finally mounts. "Because she's not—" He starts, but quickly snaps his mouth shut. The Café falls quiet again, but now it's also uncomfortably warm.

Ratio's eyebrows lift. "What?"

"N-nothing! It's nothing!" He stammers.

Ratio narrows his eye at him. Is that… blood flushing his face? "Birthday, just tell me!"

Birthday keeps his eyes down on the table. He chews on his bottom lip. Ratio leans towards him expectantly, but he isn't volunteering anything. He'd even managed to grab the full attention of the Hamatora Duo, as neither of them are even pretending like they aren't eavesdropping anymore. Still, he keeps silent.

Ratio lets out a patient breath. "_Birthday—_"

"_Because she's not you, alright!?" _He snaps, leaping from his chair. His, Ratio's, and the two eavesdroppers' mouths drop open. This time the blood rushes full-force into his face.

Ratio blinks slowly up at him. His breath is stalled in his throat. "… what?"

The gears in Birthday's head finally burst to life again. He ducks his head down with clenched teeth. "F-forget it!" He shouts, and walks quickly from the Café, leaving Ratio dumbfounded and staring at the empty space he used to occupy.

His heartbeat thunders in his ears. Suddenly it all makes sense. And yet, nothing inside him feels like it makes any sense at all. He doesn't feel happy or accomplished that he got his answer. In fact, he feels downright awful.

But some sick and twisted part inside of him feels… glad.

Ratio puts his face in his hands. What the hell is wrong with him?

He has to follow Birthday, he knows that. To tell him about how confused he is or to console him, he doesn't know, but he has to go. Would jumping to chase after him seem like a clichéd ending to a lovers' spat? Should he sneak out instead? _Could_ he even sneak out?

Wait, no. Why is he even thinking of such things?

"Just go after him already."

"Huh?" Ratio brings his head up. Nice is watching him intently from his seat at the bar. Murasaki has since returned to reading his newspaper. At least, he appears to.

Nice tilts his head a bit. "You're sitting there trying to come up with some excuse to leave, right? I'm giving you an opening."

Ratio trips over his words. "But I—"

"Go on," he presses, turning around in his chair again. "We won't think any less of you or anything."

Murasaki speaks bluntly from behind his newspaper: "I'll think less of him if he doesn't go."

"Right?" Nice laughs.

Ratio doesn't say anything for a moment. A soft smile forms on his face. "You guys…"

Nice nods. "So we agree, then? Ah—" He reaches his hand out onto the bar as if to grab something, only to find nothing. Beside him, he sees Hajime with a bottle of soda in her hands and his shoulders slump. "Hajime-Chan, that drink was mine…" On his other side, there's a small coffee cup on a saucer. He figures it's better than nothing and snatches it up.

Murasaki immediately reacts. "Oi!"

But it's useless, as Nice has already brought the cup to his lips. He makes a face as soon as the drink reaches his tongue. "Ugh! It's black!"

"Of course it is! I happen to _like_ black coffee!" Murasaki snaps. Nice takes another sip and makes another, exaggerated, face. Murasaki grabs the cup from his hands. "Give me that!"

Nice just shoots him a toothy grin. He then sees Ratio out of the corner of his eye and regards him with mild surprise. "Hm? Ratio, you're still here?"

Ratio picks up his tablet from the table and stands. "… No. I'm just leaving."

Nice and Murasaki speak up in unison. "Good luck."

"Good luck." Hajime mumbles in-between bites of curry rice.

Nice springs to life for a moment. "Ah! Even Hajime-Chan supports you!"

Ratio chuckles beneath his breath. "Then I really can't lose, huh?" One of his gloved hands clenches into a fist as he heads for the door, picking up speed as he goes. Finally, the door clacks shut behind him and the Café is quiet once again.

Nice releases a breath. "Haah… how dramatic~. Ne, Hajime-Chan, could I have my drink back now?"

Hajime presents the bottle almost immediately. "Here."

"Thank yo—_ah, it's empty!_" he wails to the ceiling.

Murasaki scoffs. "Speaking of dramatic…"

Nice narrows his eyes at him and stamps the empty bottle onto the bar. Without a word, he steals Murasaki's cup from its saucer a second time and jumps from his chair.

Murasaki shoves his newspaper down. "_Hey!_ What are you doing!?"

But Nice is already at the other end of the café, rifling through a basket of tiny cups of half-and-half.

"Don't put creamer in it!" He shouts, and scrambles to his feet. Nice only smirks and tears open one of the little plastic containers with his teeth. As soon as he dumps the cream into the cup, Murasaki's entire being slumps in defeat.

Still in her seat, Hajime mumbles with her mouth full of curry rice, "Dramatic…"

xx

**Author's Notes—**Just a sweet little drabble-esque thing to help me get back into the swing of things, as well as help me get over Hamatora. (I will never be over Hamatora.)

The prose is a little clunky—okay, _very_ clunky—but I was experimenting. Yeah, that's it. I usually don't post these sorts of things. Normally, I just write them and forget about them, but I figured why not. It also serves to prove that I'm still alive and writing. If I had a tumblr, I'd just post these things there and be done with it, but I've kept from biting that bullet so far. I'd be lost in the catacombs of the internet for decades if I ever _did_, I'm sure. Fanfics on tumblr make me feel like I'm part of some older fanfiction generation, like: "When I was your age, we didn't have these new-fangled _ships_ and _OTPs _and _trigger warnings_! We had _pairings_ and the _citrus scale_!" My word, the citrus scale…

_ANYWAY_. Congratulations to BirthRate for being, basically, the only BL pairing that I ship. Not that I ship them _hard_, mind you. It's more like a skiff. So, thanks for reading my nonsense, and all that!

**Does the Hamatora fandom even have a presence on this site?,**

_**-Destiny**_


End file.
